


Honeyed Eyes

by okalex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Drinking Wine, Boys Reading Poetry, But with no mentions of war, First Kiss, First War with Voldemort, Gay Sirius Black, Getting Together, London 1978, M/M, Non-straight Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okalex/pseuds/okalex
Summary: Remus finds Sirius with one of his books.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 66
Collections: Harry Potter





	Honeyed Eyes

_Mellitos oculos tuos, Iuuenti,_   
_si quis me sinat usque basiare,_   
_usque ad milia basiem trecenta_   
_nec numquam uidear satur futurus,_   
_non si densior aridis aristis_   
_sit nostrae seges osculationis._

Remus had lost count of the times he’d wanted to go to sleep when he got home but was met by a fully-awake Sirius sitting on the sofa (a piece of furniture also known as ‘his bed’). Tonight, he was reading a book. Or, perhaps reading is not the correct term here, he was absolutely absorbed by a book and only looked up for a second to say “hello” before turning back to the book. Remus slowly peeled off the many layers he was wearing (boots, hat, scarf, gloves, coat, jumper) before heading into the kitchen. Chocolate in the fridge, wine glass on the counter.

“You want anything?” He shouted to Sirius as he opened the wine bottle with a silent spell.

“What?” Sirius replied, barely audible. Remus stuck his head out of the kitchen to see Sirius’ face buried in the book again.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” Remus repeated, louder and slower than the first time.

“What’re you having?”

“Wine?”

“Oh, nice. Yeah, thanks.”

Remus lingered in the kitchen a bit longer than necessary. Pouring the wine slowly, taking a couple of sips from his glass and wiping off the counter. He supposed living on anyone’s sofa would be frustrating, no privacy and no space, but Sirius was probably the most extroverted person he knew. Remus probably wouldn’t have agreed to crash at Sirius’ place if he hadn’t known that Sirius was partially asking because he didn’t want to be alone. Sirius Black needed company, and Remus needed Sirius’ sofa. He refilled his glass and headed over to the sofa, where he put both glasses down on the glass-topped table before sinking down into the pillows.

“Cheers, Moony.”

“It’s fucking freezing out there.”

Sirius finally looked up from the book, as though he suddenly realized Remus was there, as though he suddenly remembered it was _his_ fault that Remus still couldn’t quite feel his fingers. Sirius' hair hadn’t quite dried from the bath he’d been drawing when Remus left, and had that wavy, velvety look that was the envy of their female friends. Remus hadn't thought much about his own hair until he started comparing it to Sirius', and now it made him slightly envious too.

“What’d you get?” Sirius put the book down on the table and picked up his glass. “See, you have my full attention!” Remus was way too quick to oblige, and put his own glass down before jumping out of the sofa.

“Bought a pair of gloves and they were rubbish.”

Remus fetched the square plastic bag from the kitchen and handed it over to Sirius, who was absolutely beaming. Like a kid at Christmas. He put his wine glass down again and started pulling the records out, one by one.

“Is this just The Doors’ entire discography?” he asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Come on, you like them!” Remus had been so excited when he’d found them, five of The Doors best albums and together they’d cost almost as much as the sixth record alone.

“Well, yeah, but-” Sirius stopped himself as he pulled out the last record: Sham 69. “No one gets me the way you do, Moony.”

“Except James.”

“Of course.” Sirius picked up each album one more time, giving each record a more thorough inspection before carefully returning them to the bag. He gestured towards the record player in the corner, clearly asking Remus to put something on.

“I am _not_ getting up again.”

“Ugh, fine.” Sirius left the sofa and started putting his new records in the shelf with the other ones. “Sorry about the shit gloves. You still cold?”

This was such a Sirius thing. He’d make you think he didn’t hear any of your complaints and then when you’d forgotten you even said anything he’d comfort you in any way possible. Covert compassion.

“Ah, a bit.”

“Which album d’you wanna hear?”

“Uhh. The first one? The one with Jim’s face all big.” Remus smiled as the opening of Break on Through started playing, so familiar and yet he hadn’t heard it in two or three years. He turned his attention to the table, picked up the glass of wine and glanced at the book Sirius had been reading. “Are you reading my book?”

“Yeah, I was gonna ask." Sirius said before standing up and moving back to the sofa. He pulled the blanket he'd been sitting on up and tossed it onto Remus, sat back down, took a large swig of wine and raised an eyebrow. “Why _do_ you have a book full of gay poetry?” Remus let out a huff of laughter.

“It’s Roman poetry! It’s not gay, it’s just… Roman.”

“I’m sorry you have to find out this way, but as a gay man, I have to tell you that this -” he waved his hand over the book “is gay. Really gay.”

“Yeah, fine.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Catullus did write some pretty gay poetry.”

“HAH! Told you!”

“It’s nice.” Remus said, possibly referring to The Crystal Ship that had just started play, possibly to Catullus poetry.

“Yeah, it is.”

Remus didn’t know which Sirius was referring to either, but they slipped into a comfortable silence as the song played. Remus had sold all his record three years ago, and hadn’t bothered buying new ones even when he might’ve afforded them. While he usually didn’t listen to a lot of American music, his Doors records (which had belonged to his father) had been some of his favourites. This felt like such a luxury. Wine, records and his best friend.

“Will you read for me?” Remus asked. He wasn’t really sure why, but right now there was nothing he’d like more than to hear Sirius read some Catullus for him.

“Really?”

“Mm, why not?” Remus took a sip of his wine and leaned back into the couch.

Sirius downed half the content of his glass before putting it back on the table and picking the book back up. Remus watched as he flipped through the pages he’d already read, obviously looking for a particular piece. He was a bit surprised to see that Sirius had already found a favourite.

“Are you… Moony, I can’t read if you’re looking at me!”

“Of course, you’re so shy.” Sirius glared at him, obviously not amused by his joke. “Sorry, fine.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

“ _Your honeyed eyes, Juventius_ ,”

“Oh.” Remus uttered, surprised and pleased that Sirius had gone with _his_ favourite.

“What? I’m _not_ reading it in Latin.”

“Oh, no, I just… Forty eight is one of my favourites. Please, go on.”

Sirius cleared his throat, and then started over,

“ _Your honeyed eyes, Juventius_ ,”

Remus noticed that Sirius’ voice had taken on a slightly different quality, as though he had a specific voice he used for reciting poetry. It was thicker and a bit darker. Honeyed. He opened his eyes, just a tiny bit, just to see what Sirius looked like when reading. Solemn, nervous, radiant. By the third line, he closed his eyes again because he was tearing up.

“ _if one should let me go on kissing still,_

_I would kiss them three hundred thousand times,_

_nor would I think I should ever have enough,_

_not if the harvest of our kissing_

_were thicker than the ripe ears of corn._ ”

He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until Sirius stopped reading. Remus was glad his eyes were closed because he had not expected to be this moved. He felt a chill, even though he’d been warmed up. Even though the flat was hot and the wine was making him warmer. There was something cold running down his spine and a sharp heat rushing through his chest.

Remus was pulled out of his thoughts when Sirius put a hand on his arm.

“Hey, you okay?” Sirius asked in a voice that was much lower and smaller than the one he had used a minute ago, though just as warm. Remus reluctantly opened his eyes. His head was spinning and his blood rushing and he considered getting up and walking out. He took a couple of deep breaths before answering.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Sirius flashed him a quick smile.

“Why that one though?” Stop asking questions, Remus told himself quietly. Stop being curious. Stop thinking about this.

Sirius answer was entirely unexpected. “It reminds me of you.” Remus looked up to see Sirius stressing his bottom lip between his teeth. His nervous habit.

“Why?” Remus asked.

“Dunno, it's just... you.”

“It's just me?”

“No! I mean. Things are different, aren’t they? We’re alone now. I see you every day and I’ve just gotten the feeling that maybe you see me, too, and you asked me to read so why the hell not read that bit. It just felt right. Either you do or you don’t, we might die next week so why-”

Remus Lupin rarely acted on his impulses. He liked to think things through, he preferred making lists of all the pros and cons and he would let his brain decide, even when his gut or heart told him otherwise. So when he kissed Sirius Black, on the sofa that was also his bed, it might have been impulsive, but he later realized that he had thought it through, only it had been years ago. It was so simple, just leaning a little bit to the left and tilting his head just so and then his lips were against Sirius’. A light peck, just enough to shut him up, just enough to know.

Sirius pulled back, cheeks reddening and eyes wide, vulnerability written across his face in the smallest of letters and the hand on Remus’ arm trembling. “Moony.” he whispered. Remus could hear his quickened breathing and it was unlike anything.

“Padfoot.” Yes, yes, yes, you, you, you. His emotions were flooding him and for once, Remus let it happen. He allowed his mouth to form a smile and his hand to reach out, to touch Sirius’ cheek. He allowed his eyes to gaze into Sirius’, to feel his breath catch in his chest when they shared a look that felt like the most natural thing in the world, and yet something so new and precarious. This, this, this, yes, yes, yes. He was flooded, he wanted to scream and laugh and to tear his heart from his chest just to feel a bit less because he was sure he was drowning. It was wonderful and terrifying and he was wondering how he had never felt _this_ before.

“Yeah?” Sirius voice was still only a whisper, a warm breath against Remus’ wrist. Sirius fingers danced across Remus’ arm, light touches that made his skin feel cold and his insides warm. He was sure he was still smiling when he moved closer, closing the small gap between them on the sofa, folding his legs just so they wouldn’t be in the way, just so he could get closer.

“Yeah.” he breathed against Sirius’ mouth before covering it with his own again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to my partner, with whom every kiss feels like a first kiss. May you never read my fanfic.  
> Translation (and transcription) of Catullus 48 from https://www.ancient-literature.com/catullus-48-translation.html
> 
> Honestly, I read Catullus 48 and wanted Sirius to read it to Remus and thus my first fic for this fandom was created.  
> Catullus was not the only dude in ancient times who wrote beautiful love poems to his lover. Also, he has at least one other poem that you very likely have read before. It's rude. This is 100% a repost because Things Went Wrong the first time. SORRY.


End file.
